


Thatcher Effect

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: Dreamboy (Podcast)
Genre: Bruises, Canon Typical Weirdness, Character Study, First Fic In The Tag I Think, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16918539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: Christ, what is he doing?





	Thatcher Effect

**Author's Note:**

> first fic in the tag and it's not very long but it is kind of weird so tonally appropriate I Guess Who Knows
> 
> not beta'd

It still feels off somehow.  
  
Wrong?  
  
Not wrong, not really, because Luke wants him too, Luke's the one that pulls his hand to the bruises and presses Dane's hand down on the blotches of color, on the blues and greens and sickly yellows and worrying blacks.  
  
People can be into what they're into, he's not going to judge. Being near him makes Dane feel something.  
  
Good?  
  
Not good, not really, because even if the sex (or the almost sex) is pretty good, pretty great, he feels like he's walking on eggshells and like every other word is the last one he'll get to say before Luke gets mad, looks at him weirdly, judges him for his bullshit.  
  
He's not judging. Luke obviously has his own shit to deal with, and they're not like actually dating, right? They're just- are they even friends? They're neighbors who sometimes sort of fuck but not really and walk around town trying to find kids or plants or drugs or-  
  
Christ, what _is_ he doing?  
  
But Luke's hands are warm, just the tiniest bit calloused on the fingertips, barely there, barely noticeable, and they feel good on Dane's wrist, and maybe he can just turn his brain off for five fucking minutes and enjoy whatever the fuck this is-  
  
Or not.  
  
Or he can sit here and agonize over their weird shared dream, and the weird, probably demonic, girl scouts, and the Zebra and the cakes and the weird massive wasps. That's fun. That's a fun thing to do when your maybe but not actually friend/boyfriend/neighbor has his dick out.  
  
Dane's having a time.  
  
Not a good time, not a bad time, just- just a time.  
  
Luke's smile doesn't look right.  
  
It reaches his eyes and everything, but there's something so rehearsed? Disingenuous? Bad? Wrong? Dangerous? He can sit here with a thesaurus all night, and he still isn't going to find the right word to describe the thing he feels in the back of his brain that is telling him to get away away away from this inherent vague wrongness.  
  
He remembers, (great another thing that isn't the dick in front of him, fantastic Dane,) reading something months ago how pictures of upside-down faces are almost always edited because actually looking at a person upside down makes the brain go weird.  
  
Maybe that's what this is.  
  
What?

What the fuck is he thinking about?  
  
Luke's warm hand pushes Dane's down on an old hand print that gripped his hips what must have been a few days ago now. Mostly yellow now, bit greenish in the middle, Dane doesn't imagine it hurts that much anymore and in some stupid attempt to pay attention, to Christ, _Please be present_ , squeezes hard.  
  
Luke gasps right in his ear, air tickling the skin, and he can see the way Luke's hips shift, the way his thighs rub together and the way his dick bobs in the dim bedroom light.  
  
That's something to sear into his memory. Something to make him stop thinking about random half wrong bullshit  and to focus here, now, at the warmth under his hand, the warmth of a human person at his side, the warmth of Luke's breath in his ear.  
  
The way Luke's other fingers grip Dane's arm hard- hard enough to leave his own bruise.  
  
Guess they'll match now.  
  
“Who-” He starts and his voice trails of with Luke groans just a little, pushing his hip up into Dane's hand. To make it hurt worse or to really feel it, he doesn't know.  
  
“Mailman.” Dane's about to laugh and call bullshit- he should- maybe all of it is bullshit- maybe everything is a lie but the bruises are there, and Luke's warm solid body is there and maybe- “I invited him in- I'm the end of his route.”  
  
Dane doesn't know if Luke forgot that his house is in the middle of a row of other houses and not even on a corner or if the mailman lied to him or what combination of fact and reality he should even try and apply to... to all of this.  
  
“What did he do?”  
  
Luke laughs- short and breathy and higher than usual.  
  
“Fucked me against the front door.”  
  
The inside or the outside- probably the inside.  
  
Probably.  
  
Dane would have seen it.  
  
Right?  
  
“Hot.” He says as a joke and squeezes down again and Luke gasps and yeah, it's- it's a nice noise.  
  
“He shoved his fingers in his mouth while he was doing it.”  
  
“Do you want me to-”  
  
“No- no. He was- his dick was so fucking thick. Like a coke can.” He can hear Luke's thighs rubbing together- neither of them are touching his dick. Why are neither of them touching his dick? (He's not judging. He's not.)  
  
Great.  
  
He is.  
  
He is judging, and he hates it. He can't even hear the rest of the undoubtedly hot story and spills out of Luke's lips while he gets off to the memory of other men being kinda sorta needlessly but not excessively violent to him while Dane's the one doing all the work.  
  
He doesn't even remember offering to get him off.  
  
Why is his memory so shitty lately?  
  
Why does Luke's smile look weird?  
  
Why isn't he listening to his friend/boyfriend/neighbor get off right now?    
  
Is he even hard right now?  
  
(No.)  
  
When they finish whatever this was, is, maybe will continue to be, Dane shrugs and heads home.  
  
“See you when I see you,” Luke calls for the doorway and Dane turns around halfway across the street, standing in the road, and nods like an idiot.  
  
“For sure.”  
  
Luke's smiles.  
  
“For sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> talk[ to me here](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/)
> 
> *thatcher effect is the weird upside down face thing btw*


End file.
